Correspondence
by Intercedo Circu
Summary: George receives a letter and remembers his brother.


**A/N: I got e-mails from and came by and remembered that I wanted to write this. What with the twins joking all the time, I thought that maybe they would never have actauly talked about the possibility of death for any of them. But then I wondered what it would have been like. I just like the idea. I'm not sure if its in character enough. I just wanted it to be written. **

**Correspondence**

_George woke up and stared at the ceiling for a while. His stomach growled. From below him, George could hear his brother stirring._

"_I heard that down here," Fred said, kicking the bed springs and making George grimace. "Go eat something you lummox."_

"_I feel we are growing apart Freddy dear," George said, sticking his head over the edge of his bed and meeting his brother's gaze. Fred arched an eyebrow. "Maybe we should consider buying beds that aren't on top of each other."_

"_What? Have separate rooms? How will I survive without you Georgie?!"_

Sighing, George moved the last of the boxes out into the hallway. He stared at the room now empty except for the bunk beds. At first it had been a necessity, they had decided to focus Harry's money on the business and worry about where they were sleeping later. Then it was because of the war – being in the same room was easier on them at night. And soon the discussion stopped coming up. They didn't mind sharing a room – they had done it all their lives.

George had never imagined sleeping without his brother in the same room. He had never had to do it. Even during the war, they had always been posted together – as if no one could think of them apart.

Not that they ever thought of themselves as apart from each other. There were only some times when they were parted, and it was usually because of a girl.

Angelina wouldn't look at him. She sat still and frozen in the seat next to him, her dark head bent. George tentatively reached out and touched her hand. For a moment Angelina stayed still, but then she turned her hand over and they held hands while the ceremony went on.

_When it was over, George got up and he didn't look at Angelina. He went to the coffin and picked it up. He could feel the eyes on him. He wished he could cry – but tears had yet to come to him. _

_He was still numb. _

_Harry stood on the other side and his green eyes were bright behind his glasses. His eyes were on Ginny though – like so many people he had yet to look at George. No one seemed to want to look at him. _

_George wondered if it would be possible for him to disappear because no one would look at him._

George rolled his shoulders and was about to pick up the final box again when the doorbell rang. George pressed his lips together. He hated it when people came by. Usually they had no idea what to say to him. George wasn't even sure what he wanted them to say to him. Just anything but the inevitable _I'm so sorry._

Swallowing he headed down to the front door and pulled it open. "Hello!" he said cheerfully. Harry stood on the doorstep and looked devastated at the mere hello. "Oh don't look so down Harry," George said as Harry quickly looked down at his feet, his glasses slipping ever so slightly. "You don't want to break your glasses again."

Harry looked up at him, green eyes searching his face, as if George had intended that to be a joke. George was not on top of his game – he could have done anything there, but he was so unsure. Years of being a prankster, and he still couldn't come up with anything without Fred there to egg him on.

George wondered if Fred ever needed him there to egg him on.

The wax was the last touch and George sealed the envelope properly. He had seen it done in Muggle movies, but now it was his turn. He smiled as he put the curse on the red seal.

"_What are you doing to that poor bit of paper!" Fred asked, coming in with a cup of coffee. He frowned at his brother. George reached up and tugged his remaining ear. _

_  
"Just…" he stopped. Fred would think him morbid and they always kept things light. Fred narrowed his eyes and George knew it would be useless to keep it from his brother. "If I were to die," he said finally, touching the place where his ear had been, "then I would want you to find this letter and read it."_

"_You're not going to die," Fred said with a halfhearted laugh. "You're being morbid. Besides, don't I know everything about you?"_

"_You do, but I would like to know that I was around for you in your hour of need," George said, his tone light and joking. _

"_What are you talking about Georgie? I would have Angelina, we'd be off having sex somewhere, celebrating life, of course." George snickered. "Its me that would have to worry about you."_

"Why don't you come in," George said, pulling the door open. "I was just cleaning out… a room." He couldn't say "my" room, it wasn't right. And Harry had that puppy dog wounded look about him that such a comment as "our" might set him off on a guilt trip that would last for ages. Then Ginny would come and yell at him, and then cry. She had managed to come to the house three times, and all three times she had started to cry.

"I can make tea," George said. "Or some whiskey? I've got some good beer actually."

Harry shook his head and looked down at his feet. "Uh, no, thanks." He said. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a bit of paper. "I just… I thought I would drop this off."

George stared at the paper. There was a bit of red wax on it, and George was sure that there was a curse on it. A silly, annoying curse, but a curse nonetheless. He reached out and took the folded parchment.

"He… he gave it to Ginny, to give to you, but she… she couldn't make it," Harry said.

"Harry," George said. "Its not your fault."

Harry looked up with a mixture of anger and fear. "It _is_ my fault."

"Oh don't go on at me," George said. "I don't care. You come in and get some whiskey in you and I'll tell you what… what Fred said."

Harry shook his head and turned. "I can't George, I'm sorry."

George shut the door and stared at the letter. Then he pulled it open.

_George,_

_I decided that you were right, there are things that I can do for you once I'm dead, like tell you as a ghost what it feels like to go all invisible and watch girls in the toilets. Though obviously I would never pull a Moaning Myrtle. I would just want a peak. _

_Seriously mate, I can't believe I'm doing this. It feels a little too depressing for us. _

_Find someone to move in with you. Make it Harry! He'd get a kick out of it, and then he'd HAVE to get over the whole guilt thing. Tell him that I think he's being ridiculous._

_I wish I could have gotten into your letter mate. But I wanted to tell you not to be alone. And to keep your chin up. And to keep on joking. _

_It attracts the ladies. _

_Love,_

_Fred_

_P.S. Don't be depressing any more. I know we never talked about what we would want if one of us died, but its not as if its that hard for you to figure out what I wanted._

_P.P.S. Take care of Angie, take care of yourself, keep on going with the joke shop, stop Harry from being guilty. That's about it._

_P.S.S. Oh and find yourself a girl._


End file.
